


but how much would I give to have it back again?

by cheriper, mikochan_noda, politeia



Series: Sasusaku-Headcanons [2012-2014] [11]
Category: Naruto
Genre: A what-if situation, Again there's major character death, Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Haruno Sakura exploration, Original Characters - Freeform, TW: Substance Abuse Alcohol, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Was written around October 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheriper/pseuds/cheriper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikochan_noda/pseuds/mikochan_noda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/politeia/pseuds/politeia
Summary: Haruno Sakura didn’t compare to the usual tales that he had heard of - they told him that she was fierce, that she could crush sturdy bones to mere snow-powders with the clench of her fist. She had saved thousands of lives and killed millions in return. It was hard to reconcile that strong image with the half-unconscious mess lying on a bench, surrounded withtokuriflasks, fragrant of bittersweet sake.
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura
Series: Sasusaku-Headcanons [2012-2014] [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765711
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	but how much would I give to have it back again?

Finally, he found Haruno-sensei.  
  
As a young boy of eleven, fresh from the academy, he was often mystified as to why the Hokage’s son would be assigned to such a fragile-looking Jounin. Sure, Haruno-sensei was said to be a living legend in her own right, and had survived the most devastating war in the world, but it was hard to imagine her as such when she acted so… so… inadequate.  
  
Haruno Sakura didn’t compare to the usual tales that he had heard of - they told him that she was fierce, that she could crush sturdy bones to mere snow-powders with the clench of her fist. She had saved thousands of lives, and killed millions in return. It was hard to reconcile that strong image with the half-unconscious mess lying on a bench, surrounded with _tokuri_ flasks, fragrant of bittersweet sake.  
  
It always surprised him. The three most imparted lessons to the shinobi was to avoid any type of inebriation, either greed for money, sex and alcohol. Granted that his father had an unhealthy fixation with ramen, but seeing that the woman who would be responsible for his life and depending upon her guidance during missions was wasting her own life with this was slightly grating his nerves.  
  
“Oi, sensei.” He nudged her cheek with a gentle tap. “Why you’re sleeping out here?”  
  
Unexpectedly, her hand snapped out in reflex, quick to grab his wrist and two bleary green eyes staring at him in muted anger.  
  
“Ah.” The fury in her gaze dissipated once she stared at his blue eyes, “Uzumaki-kun.” She managed to make the endearment sound like it hurt her a lot. “What are you doing out here?”  
  
“It’s four in the morning, _sensei_.” He automatically replied. There was a mission that they were needed to depart early in the morning. Time was of the essence, after all. His teammates were already looking for sensei as well. Probably in the river bridge or in their training grounds. They haven’t seen sensei in a while, as she was also an important med consultant in the hospital, and guessed that she probably didn’t inform them that she was out in an another mission that his otousan might have failed to inform them.  
  
It turned out to be the opposite, apparently.  
  
Fortunately, sensei had the sense to feel embarrassed at being caught passed out in a public place. But she seemed to ignore his own reprimanding stare, as she straightened out from her curled position, gradually sat up and looked at the looming village gates.  
  
What they had first learned of Haruno-sensei : She was very serious. Unsmiling. It was probably the most opposite thing you could have thought of with a person that had a bright appearance, but all that vibrancy seemed dull whenever they were with her. Hyuuga Hana-chan, his cousin, bless that girl, was lively enough to make sure that their travels weren’t that boring with her chatter, and her arguments with Nara-san and his laziness was the ultimate buffer that he was thankful for. He might have inherited his mother’s silent disposition, but he had enough of his father’s blood to want a bit of cheerfulness.   
  
His godmother hadn’t always been like that, they told him. She was always laughing. Smiling. But, all he knew about her was this unreachable lady and that she existed somewhere in the village. Otou-chan always said that Haruno-sensei was a very busy person, that’s why she never had the time to even visit him, and Okaa-chan said to give Haruno-sensei time when he told her about his genin missions.  
  
When the silence became oppressive, he added more firmly. “We have to leave, Haruno-sensei.”  
  
Their instructor refused to move, confusion furrowing her brows. When the slightest sliver of comprehension dawned on her, she suddenly stood up and told him strictly.  
  
“That mission was already canceled, Uzumaki.”  
  
“No.” He pressed, knowing for the reason of her inebriation. “We’re still going, sensei.”  
  
It was earlier this week when he had heard Haruno-sensei and his father talk.  
  
She just handed out her resignation, a few weeks after they had passed their bell test.  
  
He had heard phrases ( _why are you doing this, Sakura-chan? you hardly go out anymore_ ) and scampered off before both of them noticed that he was there. His father might act like a goof most of the time, but he was not the Hokage for nothing. Besides, Haruno-sensei seemed to be great at detecting people who tend to sneak behind her back.  
  
For the better part of his time reviewing his ninjutsu texts, he wanted to understand what sensei saw in them that was so revolting that she wanted to disband them. Granted they were really a pain-in-the-neck, as Kaka-jiji often told him when they came over to watch over the dogs. But he was getting used to his teammates, and they weren’t really that bad.  
  
Maybe that was the reason why she was indifferent to them. Maybe she didn’t really like people?  
  
“No.” Bracing herself in one hand, she pushed herself to her feet. “We’ll not go, Uzumaki.”  
  
(If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that sensei was being stubborn.)  
  
“Why not?” He grimaced. It was a D-class mission, and they could handle it just fine. Finish it before late afternoon, if his teammates would just arrive in time.  
  
“Because,” She hissed, almost as if she wasn’t speaking as herself as if his innocent question had hit her right in the gut. “I’m not going to be much of use right now.”

* * *

  
  
Surely enough, an angry client went straight to the Hokage by noon, demanding a refund.  
  
To avoid a violent commotion, Hokage-sama sighed and acquiesced in the end that Team Seven had to set out quickly to at least finish the job in the barn till late at night.  
  
It was the usual quiet journey to one of the flourishing livestock suppliers of Fire Country, and oddly enough, the kids were uncharacteristically somber as they jumped and sped through the branches.  
  
Unknown to the child, she knew that the kid was standing there when he argued with Naruto to give up the position as their Squad leader. Heaven knows that she was not qualified enough to handle a _genin_ team right now, no matter how much that idiot believed in her.  
  
It was not lost to Sakura that she was handling the children of her friends. Friends who had survived, lived, had their happy ever afters and sickeningly sweet family existence. All she felt while having them was their pity, this feeling of being reduced to babysitting and _look, look, we can give her our kids, let her pretend that she still has a family._  
  
To mock her further, her team gained the title of Squad Seven, the team that honed the stronger leaders and soldiers of Fire.  
  
And all of she could think of was how impossibly stupid they were. Sakura didn’t need their pity, didn’t need all of this. It may sound selfish and petty, but weren’t they expecting that all along?  
  
Her students - the word rolled over her mind, and she couldn’t help imagine them bleeding on her arms - deserved better. Even if they were giving her the worst splitting headache to accompany her hangover as Hyuuga-chan had enough with the uncomfortable silence as they were nearing the barn. Her chatter filled the air, only punctuated with an occasional response from Nara-kun, and Uzumaki.  
  
She hopes that come in summer, they would survive. And she could just ship them off to take the chuunin exams and leave her be. That way, they could get out of her way faster.  
  
And that way, she wouldn’t be there when they were slaughtered in battle.  
  
Not in front of her eyes.  
  


* * *

  
He was smart enough to know who haunts his _sensei_.  
  
Like any student of the previous Rokudaime, Haruno-sensei also had the habit of being late. But as he still had the capability of tracking with his Byakugan, he knew that his instructor frequently lost herself by simply standing still, pressing her fingers on a simple line of carved characters.  
  
The bright stone in the middle of the village still received its frequent visitors, knowing that there was an added list of the names to the once destroyed memorial. So once, curious, he went there without her knowledge, inspected the soft traces of her chakra and found the name where its grooves were smooth with the constant contact of skin.  
  
He was too young to know of the War that his father once ended. But he was old enough to understand that there will always be orphans, or lost loved ones. He knew it the very moment he took the risk to become a shinobi. When he read the name _Uchiha Sasuke_ , he paused for a while and pondered on what he had discovered while making his way back to the road.  
  
Recalling the name from one of Lee-sensei’s from a dreary academy history lesson, he knew a few details about the Uchiha tragedies: the massacre, and the treachery of the Konoha Council, of how two Uchihas started the entire mess, and how another pair of Uchihas - brothers, in fact, which was ironic since the first Shinobi War was instigated by two brothers as well - had stopped it. It was a recent addition to the curriculum, a very sensitive one, and was always approached with great caution. Still it was quite interesting to know about the non-existent, powerful doujutsus, and he thought that if he was given the choice - it was among the favorite topics to discuss between his friends - he would pick up Susanoo out of all the special techniques.  
  
It was something of a surprise that Lee-sensei, who always called him Uzumaki-kun, was all grave and serious when discussing this topic. Or any topic relating to the Great War. And he always avoided his hand during recitation.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
This was all the dismissal that the ANBU received from their Hokage, before inky eyes stared at Sakura, cheeks smeared with dirt and blood. He received a flicker of a hard green glare to his direction and wondered when did he start wishing that he’d rather receive that fake smile, and its incoming fist.  
  
He had just come in at the nick of time when he was returning back to Konoha and managed to spot his former team mate. Her form low, and gloves tight, he could see that by the way she’s breathing that her reaction time was slowed. Sai had known Sakura’s drinking habit, and though many had discouraged her from it, she seemed not to have kicked it out of her system yet.  
  
Mentally knowing what day it was yesterday, he couldn’t blame her.  
  
They managed to make it out alive of the sudden nin attack, with the children wonderfully getting out of the way when needed, and even taking out a rogue attacker or two.  
  
Instead, Sai ushered the three kids who stared at him pensively. They were all covered in bruises, and scratches, but mostly they were not wounded gravely. Knowing that it wasn’t really needed for them to be escorted to the hospital with Sakura as their squad leader, he opted to drop them off to their homes, just on the safe side.  
  
Someone tugs at his arm guard when they finally reached the base of the stairs and Naruto’s son worried gaze made him brace himself, hoping that he would be enough to answer a question. Children were far cleverer than their adults, after all.  
  
“ANBU-san,” The words were calm, even defeated. “Would we get transferred?”  
  
His white mask only marred with dark swirls of ink, cocked to the side, as if indicating him to elaborate.  
  
“I heard Sensei wants to quit.” Two indignant squawks from his side told him that the child (not as dickless as his father, he would have commented if it weren’t for the somber air) was keeping it for quite some time. Knowing that Naruto could not really keep anything in some of his private matters out of the earshot of his kids, he tried to be as diplomatic as possible.  
  
“It still depends on Hokage-sama.” He pleasantly said. There, that should do the trick. He couldn’t give false assurances. The last time Sai did, he realized the grave mistake rather too late.  
  
(I‘m sure they’ll be alive enough for you to bring back the pieces together, Sakura-san)  
  
“But why?” Said the girl, obviously distraught. “We didn’t do anything wrong, right?”  
  
No. He wanted to reply. She just thinks its wrong to have you.  
  


* * *

  
  
As Naruto promised, the truth about the bloody trails of the Uchiha clan was revealed. It was recorded in the annals, this fallibility of the Konoha government. When Kakashi became the sixth Fire Shadow, he promised to make sure that this would not happen again. Naruto, as his predecessor, didn’t promise. He made sure that no one would ever make that sacrifice.  
  
Uchiha Itachi became a martyr. It was often debated if what he did was justifiable, but there was no doubt that he played a key role for the sake of all shinobi nations. His younger brother, driven by misguided vengeance, was at first believed to be a villain when in a surprising move, the Hokage’s first act was to proclaim that he also followed Itachi’s footsteps, and died in the service of Konoha. He reformed, changed sides, and was among the last ones to deliver a deadly blow to the enemy.  
  
Most Fire citizens, civilians who have populated the vast continent and circulated the stories, know him as the Last Uchiha. It was a tragic legend that would surely be passed through generations.  
  
His name was forgotten after a decade of peace.  
  
No one knew what he did to earn his place as a revered hero.  
  
(Sakura knows it well. And she hates herself because a small part of her wished that Naruto died instead. It’s the truth that she never admitted to anyone else.)  
  


* * *

  
  
As Sakura wanted, she was relieved from her missions.  
  
But in a different manner than she had expected.  
  
She was taken out of the roster and was given a month-long leave out of the hospital. Naruto phrased his verdict as granting her a vacation of sorts. Sakura knew better than to believe his words; as for the first time, she had tested his patience and an underlying current of frustration and anger.  
  
He could have said Haruno Sakura, you are suspended of your duties, until further notice. But he preferred to emphasize on her negligence, and that he once believed she could do a better job than Kakashi-sensei was to them. But after what had happened, he didn’t know what to make out of her anymore.  
  
(We had far more dangerous missions, Sakura. The chan was gone, as his hands trembled. Both of them knew that they couldn’t really predict what would happen on missions, but Sakura nearly failed him because she was drunk.  
  
His son, Sakura thought numbly, His son.  
  
A selfish part of her whispered,   
  
Well, if you kept him alive, I would have a son like yours. )  
  
She lets out a bitter laugh, and wondered where was her once responsible self. She was an almost-Aunt to these kids, yet on the day that she allowed herself to grieve for once in a year, this had to happen.  
  
(He told her before she left his office, _I’ll reconsider your resignation, seriously._  
  
 _Go ahead_ _,_ she shrugged before opening the door. It’s about time that he did use his brain again.  
  
 _I understand, Sakura-chan._ Naruto didn’t need to elaborate on what he understood. On why she had been more evasive lately. The blue frame - both knew that was empty of its picture - was face-down on the desk spoke volumes. _But you don’t have to do this to yourself._  
  
She left the brass knob crumpled on the floor, leaving it ajar.)  
  
Honestly, couldn’t Naruto get it? She nursed the last of her nth cup, watching intently on how its contents swirled.  
  
 _What would they learn from me?_  
  
(She let her precious people die, no matter how hard she tried. It was the worst kind of failure )  
  
Fascinated with the growing shadows of her ceiling, Sakura’s lips pursued as the alcohol continued to smoothly flow down to her throat. Blissful burn and blur was what she craved for this week, and savoring the aftertaste. But she didn’t taste anything at all, but the vomit and blood in her mouth, as she tried and tried to forget how cold and rigid his body was at her touch.  
  
She fell unconscious. A stray arm flopped to her side, the clay cup escaping her fingers, spilling the drink on the wooden floor..  
  


* * *

  
The night sky was a swirl of lights - red moonrises, blackened stars and cumulus night. But for Sakura, as she tended to an awake Uchiha whose eyes and hands that was surprisingly free of crimson stains, the world didn’t even matter. Eyes that met her squarely to her green ones, sincere and determined. Hands that clasped hers, gentle and firm at the same time.  
  
 _“Once this is over…”_  
  
Sakura still heard the quiet words amidst the screams, the cries of the battlefield. And every waking day, she wished she did not stop by his tent to listen to him. She cursed on why, why did he had to give her an iota of hope, as the end of his lip curled to that familiar smirk. Sasuke was the culmination of all she had worked for, of why she earned a multitude of scars, and tried to stop her tears. It’s the reason why she woke up to hell every day: fighting, killing, healing, _surviving_. And the moment that he finally noticed it, and saw that maybe, just _maybe_ …  
  
 _“I’ll give this a chance.”_  
  
She still hears it, those unforgiving ghost-words of his. It clawed and made itself known in the everyday. She knew better than to hold on to sworn promises long dead, to this thing that she had aspired for, in her entire life, (my dream, my simple dream is just to be beside sasuke-kun, is that too much to ask? ) when it was devouring her entirety.  
  
Sasuke, even in death, could still hurt her so much.  
  


* * *

  
  
When Sakura woke up groggily, & delicately peered from one green eye, the morning greeted her with a worried girl patting her forehead with a damp rag, with pearl eyes bright with brimming tears. Hyuuga had always worn her heart on her sleeves. The pain in her chest reemerged from the sea of inebriation-induced numbness. It was almost too much to bear for her to look at this kid, at them. It starkly reminded her of a forgettable girl, who was so weak, so useless.  
  
(Sakura was reminded of her vow to change. She swore to never be weak again.  
  
And she changed. She improved. But in the end, it wasn’t _enough_.)  
  
“Sensei, please, don’t give up on us!” Hyuuga’s voice started shaky before the dam broke at the mention of us. “I promise to train harder every day! I know that right now, I’m just a clumsy dead-weight, but I promise, I will improve! I’ll get better!”  
  
“Maybe Sensei’s leaving us because you talk so much, and train so little.” Nara teased. It was only then that she noticed the two other members of her assigned squad, who her trying to save her house by cleaning it. Her apartment was a mess - a clear reflection of her current state of life - full of cluttered sake bottles, take out cartons and used ramen cups.  
  
Normally, the Nara boy would tease Hyuuga about anything and everything about her, and Hyuuga would then commence a lengthy word war with the Nara boy. Or at least on her part. The Nara boy obviously gets his fix at igniting the short temper of the Hyuuga girl.  
  
This time, the Hyuuga girl began to sob, instead of retaliating on Nara.  
  
“I promise I will train more than I babble every day, Sakura-sensei!” The young girl exclaimed. All her tears and her voice was starting to annoy Sakura, and her hangover certainly doesn’t help.  
  
She tried to sit up from her couch, as one of her hands found her last bottle of sake the night before just beside her. As she found herself lately, her instinct was to shake if there was any drop left of her sake. But since she had some underaged visitors, she subtly hid the bottle in the space under her couch. Or at least, she tried to.  
  
“I know you think our cell is going to fail because of me, because I keep dragging us down, but I swear, I’ll train harder! I will never be weak again!”  
  
At this, Sakura’s focus sharpened. When before she only paid attention half-heartedly, it was when that word escaped her student’s mouth that her alcohol-clouded brain cleared. Indescribable pain, like a bolt of lightning, shot right up to her chest, and burned everything, making it harder to see.  
  
“If you only paid more attention to our lessons, instead of doing something completely irrelevant I’m sure Sensei wouldn’t be leaving us!”  
  
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for being the most useless kunoichi you’ve ever met, Sensei.”  
  
But she wasn’t. Not when she has her famed bloodline limit. Not when she could do more things than her own sensei when she was her own age. Hyuuga’s interest with books have nothing the distraction of a puppy love that will lead her to her own destruction.  
  
The Hyuuga girl continued to spout promises after promises to improve herself. And Sakura knows she should probably stop her from this nonsense. _It wasn’t your fault! You could definitely do better when you concentrate on improving your taijutsu, but you aren’t totally useless!_  
  
 _You are not pathetic._  
  
 _You are better than I was before._  
  
Sakura had always thought about how Kakashi neglected their genin cell. How Kakashi could have paid more attention to them rather than wallowing in the shadows of his past. Granted they didn’t know anything back then, but still. For them, even Naruto thinks Kakashi sensei could have done more teaching and guidance.  
  
But now, she makes Kakashi look like a model teacher.  
  
Hyuuga’s speech, and Nara’s commentaries, were halted when her apartment door was thrown off its hinges as it slammed against wall, effectively announcing Kakashi’s entrance.  
  
 _Very timely._ She thought.  
  
“Okay, kids! Thank you for babysitting Sakura-sensei!” His visible eye was glittering with mirth. The joke’s on her, apparently. Of course, only Kakashi could think of taking revenge for what they did millions of years ago when he was the one in bedridden in his room, as he nursed numerous hangovers and late nights of reading novels, while they pestered him to no end.  
  
Kakashi looked around, hands on his waist with plastic bags of food hanging. “Good job with cleaning, guys! It’s starting to resemble more like a house than ANBU headquarters. I’m sure that’s a lot of improvement.”  
  
He doesn’t mean it, maybe, but Kakashi’s eyes settled on Sakura as he spoke the last statement. He held up the bags of food. “I bought food for everyone before I forget. Here kids, take these and scamper off. Your job here’s done.”  
  
The three children looked at each other, stunned at the request. There were still a lot of things they wanted to tell Sakura-sensei, and her apartment still looks more like the barnyard they recently went to. But the way Kakashi-sensei looks sadly at Sakura-sensei was more than enough for them to understand that they’ve done what they could.  
  
That this is now Kakashi-sensei’s turn to help out.  
  
Slowly, Hyuuga stood up from kneeling over the couch, Uzumaki and Nara tied the garbage bags, and after a few silent moments more they were quietly closing their sensei’s apartment door.  
  
“They’re certainly as nosy as you three were back then.” He said with a chuckle, moving closer to her, placing what she assumed to be her share of food at the table in front of her before he vanished to her kitchen.  
  
She prodded the plastic bag and opened the styro-container, only to find… miso ramen from Ichiraku. She should have expected this, honestly.  
  
Kakashi’s voiced boomed, along with the telltale clatter of opening cupboards. “I remember that time when you three stalked me, trying to find what was under my mask.” He stood quite a distance away from her, but she could hear his chuckle. Yet, she only half-awake with Hyuuga’s emotional slap, when she still felt half-dead.  
  
Her former _genin_ instructor returned with a cup of steaming coffee. “I never thought Sasuke would participate with you and Naruto’s prank. It was so out of character of him.”  
  
She winced at the name. One of the benefits of a village forgetting one of their tragic heroes was fewer chances of hearing such painful memories, like names.  
  
She sipped the coffee he handed her. “We goaded him into submitting to our childishness.” Her voice was a little raspy, from the constant alcohol burn, or from sleep, she couldn’t even tell.  
  
Kakashi settles himself into one of her couch. “Ah, but later on you will realize that Sasuke never does anything that he doesn’t want to do.”  
  
 _Did._ She wanted to correct him.  
  
“Teachers shouldn’t have favorites, but it’s a very hard rule to follow.” He continued to speak, his gaze staring off to her window, unseeing. “I’ve always wanted to teach Sasuke. The last of his bloodline limit, goal-driven, a genius. I’ve wanted to be there to guide him  
  
“He was so much like me. But I’ve only seen myself in him that I didn’t really see him, the things that make him _him_. I was so bent on trying to correct my mistakes through him, I overlooked that he was _his_ own person, with his own baggage, and no matter how similar we are with our tainted pasts, we are still different. He is still different from me. He is not me. I could have done more help had I focused on the present, on things that were more important. But I was only seeing myself on him. In the end, I still failed him, you three. Myself.”  
  
It was the first time since his death that anyone shared a story with her about him. It kills her to remember him, but what day did it not? Every day since a little part of her soul decays. It was hard enough to live with the memories, the what-ifs, and the could-have-beens, but to hear odes about him was whole different torture.  
  
“It… It hurts me to look at my genin squad. They just remind me… _too much_ _.”_ Of times when there was innocence, of a place where everything had been perfect. It may not feel much like perfection then, but after all that had happened, it was the closest to perfection.  
  
Kakashi nodded, understanding. He, too, could see how much the new Team Seven is similar with the legendary Team Seven. In his eyes, he could see how that could hurt Sakura. But he knows that coming from the original squad, and handling an almost-copy of the squad, while getting over–or in Sakura’s case, it is more accurately described as _wallowing_ in–the past doesn’t help Sakura’s state.  
  
“I guess, we all find a little of ourselves in our students.”  
  
“But it kills me, Kakashi-sensei!” She has never called him sensei for a long time now. “It kills me to see _us_ , and to see what our future could have been, and others’ present in them! They are everything I have ever hoped and everything I’m trying to forget!”  
  
“Who said you had to _forget_? Believe me, I’ve tried that for years, but it wasted almost half of my life doing just that.” Kakashi turned to her, the last word tinged with impatience. To him, he probably expected her to grasp the point he was getting at quickly. She had probably gone too far for him to come down and give his infamous lectures. “We never asked you to forget him. We just want for you to live.”  
  
”It’s hard, Kaka-”  
  
“I didn’t say it was easy.” He let out a deep exhale. “And it wouldn’t get easier. Naruto isn’t trying to replace Team Seven. Your friends are not doing this out of pity. They just want you to find another reason to live.”  
  
Sakura couldn’t breathe.  
  
“You always did your best whenever you love someone, Sakura.”  
  
And when her air returned to her lungs, they shuddered, and seemed to clog quickly at the base of her throat. It stung, like a salted wound, these hot, leaking drops that spilled to her cheeks.  
  
“He always brought the best out of you.”  
  


* * *

  
  
After two weeks, Team Seven returned back to take on another boring D-class mission.  
  
Uzumaki accepts why Haruno-sensei still refuses to call him _Sasuke-kun_ , like his adults and peers. She treats him cordially and didn’t really bestow him any hints of favoritism, even if he’s her godson.  
  
But it’s okay.  
  
Right now, he’s more than relieved that they were out on a mission again, with Haruno-sensei teaching them a new lesson: _how to read underneath the underneath._

He’s lucky that he already had a head start with that particular lecture.

**Author's Note:**

> the request was:  
>  _hi, i would like to request for a headcanon where sasuke ends up being a tragic hero in the war. thank you! - anonymous_
> 
> written in sasusaku-headcanons lasrt october 28, 2012[ **[LINK](https://sasusaku-headcanons.tumblr.com/post/34502183252/hi-i-would-like-to-request-for-a-headcanon-where)** ]


End file.
